Running Away
by NaginiFay
Summary: Severus Snape decides to skip town with Draco in tow.


"Explain again to me why we are doing this," Draco Malfoy demanded.

Severus Snape's patience was beginning to wear thin. He was risking everything to keep his oath to the boy's mother and all Draco could do was complain.

"We are doing this because I'm too nice to just hand you over to the Dark Lord and let him kill you." _And I'm beginning to wish I wasn't._

"But do I really have to look this ridiculous?" Draco whined.

"Pretend to be a Muggle, or die?" Severus pretended to muse aloud. "Hmmm, I wonder which I'd rather do."

"Easy for a half-blood to say," Draco muttered mutinously. "Where exactly am I supposed to put this?" he asked, holding out an item of clothing he apparently hadn't recognized.

Severus let an exasperated sigh escape him. "They aren't that different," he said impatiently. Draco just looked at him, nonplussed. "Those, Draco, are your underwear. I suggest you go back into the bathroom and put them on before the _female_ security guard over there notices you."

Draco went slightly pink, and hurried back into the public toilet. _Stupid muggles have to even make their underwear different._ He'd already been totally shocked to discover the function of the mysterious fixtures on the walls. _Don't they believe in privacy? _He'd also nearly had a heart attack when the toilet had flushed itself after he was finished. He knew it couldn't really be magic, but all the same, he much preferred plumbing that didn't act on its own. He donned the offensive piece of clothing and returned to Snape.

"Why isn't Mother coming too?" he queried.

"Because she can take care of herself, unlike you, who have to be babysat," his former Professor snapped at him.

Draco resented this. He had almost succeeded. "Why did you cut your hair?" he asked, to change the subject.

Severus once again sighed, hating to be reminded. He felt naked without his hair. "Most Muggle men my age have short hair," he explained. "Besides, any means to disguise ourselves that doesn't use magic is a good idea."

Draco seemed to ponder this for a moment. "You are almost unrecognizable; it's your nose that gives you away."

Not for the first time in his life, Severus felt an almost overpowering urge to smack one of his students. Instead, he turned on his heel, and motioned for Draco to follow him.

"Why can't we stay in your house any longer?" Draco whined, practically stepping on Severus' heels.

"Because," Severus said through clenched teeth, "The Dark Lord has been tipped off that you are still in the country, and not dead like I said you were, and the Ministry has finally begun looking into the fact that I had a life outside the Wizarding World. In short, they know, or will soon know, that I own Spinner's End."

"So it isn't safe anymore," Draco concluded.

"Obviously," Snape growled.

"Where are we going now?"

"To another public toilet," was the terse reply.

"Why?"

Severus smiled nastily as he thought of how best to answer the question. "I'm going to fill the sink with water, pour this in it," he showed Draco a midsized vial of dark liquid, "and shove your head in."

Draco gaped with horror. _I'm going to be drowned in a Muggle toilet!_ He stopped dead in his tracks for a second, and then headed as speedily and silently as he could in the opposite direction. _Snape's obviously decided I'm too much trouble. I'll bet he had me change just so he'd have longer to get away after they found my body!_

Severus dimly sensed Draco's panic and turned around to see his charge running away from him. Severus growled ill temperedly. "Get back here, you idiot!"

Draco broke into a full out run. Swearing, Severus ran after him. It was only by virtue of his much longer legs that he managed to catch him at all. Too many years only pacing a classroom for exercise had taken their toll on him.

"What are you thinking?" Snape panted at a struggling Draco.

"You're going to drown me!" he cried, vainly trying to punch his captor.

Severus found Draco's efforts pathetic. Little Malfoy was no good without his wand. "I'm going to do no such thing," he replied calmly, still breathing hard.

"Don't tell me that's not what you meant!" Draco insisted desperately.

"If I was just going to kill you to spare you torture, I would have simply used the killing curse, and then made a run for it. Does it make sense to run and **then **_drown_ you?"

"But you said…" Draco trailed off, realizing he sounded ridiculous.

"I was simply referring to dying your hair in a humorous manner."

"I don't think much of your sense of humor," Draco muttered sullenly.

"Then I suspect you will be short on laughs for the rest of your life." Severus sighed again. Gone were the days when he could simply lock Draco in a secret room with a book on the Dark Arts to keep him quiet. He was going to have to pretend to be the brat's father, and that meant spending time with him, an extremely unpleasant prospect. Draco had once been his favorite student, but now Severus almost wished he **was **planning on drowning him.

Draco was not pleased with the results of his change in hair color. "Why does it have to be black?" he moaned. "I look half dead!"

Severus felt insulted. "Is there something wrong with black hair?"

"Nothing, if you have a face that isn't pale. You need a bit of color to pull this off. You're ugly otherwise," Draco mused. He realized his faux pas an instant before Snape's hand connected smartly with the back of his still-damp head.

Severus cursed his abnormally short temper. Smacking Draco was not something he wanted to get into the habit of doing. Smacking led to hitting, as he well knew, and he had no intention of giving in to _that_.

"Why couldn't we both be blonde?" Draco knew he was whining, but he couldn't help it. He looked horrible!

"Because," Snape said, "Black hair does not dye blonde easily, nor does it bleach well, even if I dared use magic."

"Couldn't we both be brunettes, then?" Draco asked desperately.

"I only had black dye on hand!" Snape snarled.

"Why did you have black dye?" Draco asked curiously.

"That," Severus said menacingly, "is none of your business." Remus Lupin wasn't the only one whose difficult life had led to premature greying, but Severus wasn't about to admit it.

It was rather far to the airport; far enough to justify a taxi even, but Severus decided that one less person who could possibly identify them later was worth a long walk. It also had the pleasant effect of stealing much of Draco's breath, greatly reducing how much whining he could do.

"I think I have blisters, _Dad,_" Draco informed Snape as he stood in what he hoped was the last of several queues with no apparent purpose other than to make the people who couldn't get seats feel like they were doing something constructive.

"Do you have any metal on you, Jake?" Severus asked Draco, hoping the name he had bought for him was similar enough that Draco wouldn't have any trouble remembering it.

"A knife, why?" Draco replied.

Severus sighed. "We have to go through a metal detector to ensure that passengers do not have any weapons," he explained.

Draco stared at him. "How are we supposed to protect ourselves, then?"

"We aren't," Severus said, "Now go to the toilet and get rid of that."

"It's a family heirloom," Draco protested. "Look, see, they told that man he could have his back when he arrives!"

"If we draw attention to ourselves, there will be no more Malfoys to pass heirlooms on to!" Severus murmured. "I told you to put anything important in our checked bag. Now pay the price of your disobedience and get rid of it."

"Can't I just put it in my shoe or something?"

"No. The metal detector would go off if you had an unusual amount of fillings, let alone a knife."

Looking murderous, Draco left the line for the toilet. When he returned he asked quietly, "What are fillings?"

Severus sighed. It never occurred to purebloods that there might actually be a reason Hogwarts had Muggle Studies on the curriculum. "Later," he murmured, knowing it would seem strange if he was explaining Muggle oral care to a young man who ought to have already known.

The finally took a seat to wait, and Draco had a thousand questions. He wanted to know how doors without magical endowed intelligence could know to open for you and how glass tubes shaped into words could be made to glow without magic. He wondered how Soda Pop could be fizzy and bubbly without alcohol or a magical ingredient. He had heard of electricity, but he wanted to know how it worked. He wanted to know how in Merlin's name something as big and ungainly as an airplane could possibly fly. He wanted to know what those screens and boards with buttons on them were called, the ones that the airport servants used so much, and that some people had smaller versions of that were carried in cases, and put on their legs instead of on a counter.

He wanted to know where the incomprehensible voice that spoke every few minutes was coming from. He wanted to know how the words appeared and disappeared on the message board. He wanted to know what the small boxes were, the ones with flexible rubber fingers coming out the top that many people had up to their ears and were talking into. He desperately wanted to get his hands on one of those things Snape had told him were toys, Vid-ee-oh games. Several people near his age, even older, were whiling away the hours of pointless waiting, engrossed in whatever it was they could see on the screens. He even wondered how hot chips could come out of what looked like a gaudily painted wardrobe, as he doubted even muggles would put a house elf to work all day in a space that small.

But, most of all, he wondered, "How much longer?" and he voiced this question many times, never receiving a satisfactory answer.

"Why won't you say how much longer we have to wait?" Draco whined.

"Because I don't know!" Severus hissed quietly through clenched teeth. If Draco asked 'how much longer' one more time, Severus was going to amend his anti-hitting resolution.

"I need to go to the toilet."

"Then for heaven's sakes, go!" _Honestly, you'd think I was traveling with a four year old._

Mercifully, by the time Draco returned, they were allowed to board the plane. Draco had seemed hyperactive in the airport terminal, his eyes darting allover the place, and his mouth occasionally gaping open in amazement.

Now, Draco looked extremely apprehensive. "You're sure these things actually fly?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, I'm sure. They don't crash often either…." Severus said, hiding his delight at the sudden grayness of Draco's face.

"Crash?" Draco whispered, suddenly feeling quite faint. Snape took the seat by the window, which was just fine with Draco. He had no desire to see the ground much farther away than he had ever seen it from a broomstick. He dug his fingers into his seat during take off, while Snape looked scornfully on. He soon relaxed, however. It really wasn't that bad after all. He couldn't even tell they were moving.

Draco quickly bored. "Stop fidgeting!" Snape hissed softly at him. Draco wanted to complain, but he was extremely conscious of the Muggle girl about his age sitting on his other side. She reminded him of Hermione Granger, slightly mousy and with her nose in a book. She also had bifocal glasses, which increased her bookish appearance.

She must have sensed her eyes on him, because she turned towards to him and asked, "Would you like something to read?"

"Eh…eh, sure," he stammered, not sure how one talked to muggles. _Should I use simpler words?_

"I've got some science magazines, the National Enquirer, a tourist's Latin Spanish dictionary and phrase book, not that I'll probably need it, The Lord of the Rings, and the National Geographic."

As she spoke Draco realized she was American. "Can I have the dictionary and that magazine?" he pointed at the one that had a blurry picture of what he was sure was a kelpie.

"Sure," she said affably. She handed them over and turned back to her book, _A Brief History of Time, by Stephen Hawking._

"Why won't you need this?" he asked, looking through the book she'd given him.

"I've already been to Mexico several times," she replied absently, without looking up from her book, which was apparently assigned reading. She often paused, and scribbled furious notes in a notebook.

"Doing homework?" Snape asked.

"No," she said looking up. "I don't go to school anymore. I finished at Harvard University when I was fourteen."

Snape looked impressed, so Draco supposed it was a significant accomplishment.

"What are you doing, then?" he asked.

"Composing a counter argument…" she murmured, turning back to her work.

Snape's eyes widened slightly. "Genius," he whispered, and began to watch her calculatingly.

Draco shrugged, and began to read the magazine. He soon realized it was the Muggle equivalent of the Quibbler. Some of the articles were trash about supposedly famous people he'd never head of. Others were about magical creatures that muggles supposedly didn't know existed. _Not all completely clueless, are they? _he mused, and he flipped though an article about Sasquatch, which the article referred to most often as Bigfoot. It was obviously a brown variety of Yeti.

Severus followed Draco when he got up to use the bathroom. "Be nice to her," he instructed, "She could be useful."

"How?" the boy queried. Severus sighed.

"She is highly intelligent


End file.
